Dinner, a violinist and a question
by MechaMax
Summary: Mycroft asks Lestrade to dinner and the evening takes an interesting turn. REALLY interesting. A story for both Mystrade shippers and those who just want some interesting Sherlock-reading.


I can't take all the cred for this story, I really can't! A friend of mine and I came up with a dozen of weird fanfiction ideas and this is one of them... I just only wrote it five months later or something like that. And feel free to interpret it whichever way you find interesting. I just loved writing this an whole awful lot!

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It was more romantic than anything Lestrade had ever seen. It was a private room on the most exclusive restaurant he knew about in London. Not only did everything in the room look so valuable that he guessed that just something simple as the vase on the table was worth more than he would earn in his whole lifetime. He felt really dressed down and then he had even put on his best suit and tie! And how was it possible for the atmosphere to be so utterly romantic? Was it the candles on the table and the others that were scattered all over the room and made it seem like the place was glowing? Or was it perhaps the night outside the building where the London sky for once was actually totally clear and every twinkling star could be seen from the window? Or was it simply the man sitting opposite of the table, wearing a suit worth thousands of dollars and a tie in the same red as the wine in their glasses. But that was just to be expected of Mycroft Holmes.

"I hope the place is to your liking," the man said and tried to sound nonchalant and succeeded perfectly. "I find this room quite relaxing."

"Oh, it is nice!" Lestrade hurried to say but realised how the word didn't match the elegance of the room or the atmosphere or anything at the moment. "I mean, brilliant." But that sounded childish. "Nice. Fine. Good!" Why did his vocabulary have to be bad at this particular moment?

But Mycroft just smiled. A simple smile that said more than a thousand words. Even though Lestrade secretly would enjoy that smile a whole awful lot at a normal moment it just made him feel even more out place at this.

"I must say," Lestrade said and tried his best at seeming calm. Maybe fingering the glass with wine wasn't the best way of doing so, but it didn't occur to him at that moment. "I was very surprised when you asked me here. It is such a nice place and I would never dream of going to such a place normally." Damn! He sounded poor when he said it like that.

"Only the best for the best," Mycroft said nonchalantly with a quick laugh.

"You sure are the best," Lestrade said and tried to smile without looking like a fool.

"I meant you."

Suddenly it was all very awkward for Lestrade. How was he supposed to react to such a remark? Think Lestrade! But he was saved by the door.

"Oh," Mycroft said and sounded happy at first but the tone quickly changed into something Lestrade wasn't able to read at that moment. The nerves made his senses numb. "The music."

A man in a suit walked into the room and put a violin to his shoulder and started playing without saying a word. The music was smooth and relaxing and helped Lestrade relax just a tiny bit. Perhaps he was going to be able to think a little bit straighter when he wasn't as tense.

Soon they were served the finest meal Lestrade would ever have been able to imagine. He couldn't for anything in the world imagine ever being able to eat such fine food again. He enjoyed it to the last bit and once he could see a satisfied smile on Mycroft's face but decided to ignore it. Lestrade didn't really understand the younger Holmes brother so why would he understand the older one? It was probably just for the best to keep eating.

They chatted for a bit too, about things like Lestrade's work, the weather, the news and to Lestrade's surprise they even talked about some personal interests. It was actually a very nice conversation and Lestrade found himself even more enchanted by that subtle smile than ever.

"Maybe it's time I confess my intention of inviting you here." Lestrade had been so into the food, the wine, the atmosphere and the talking that he had forgotten about any kind of other intention for the meal. Something inside of him was slightly disappointed. "Er, would you mind if I called you Gregory?"

Lestrade was a little bit surprised but flattered. "No, sure, go ahead."

"Well, Gregory," Mycroft leaned forward a bit and braided his fingers under his chin. "I've been watching you for quite a while. I must ensure you that it all started with concern for my stupid, younger brother. He attracts the wrong kind of people, you know. I had to see if the people he worked with the most were anything to trust. I must admit that I would have made something about that Anderson if it weren't for the fact that my brother sure enjoys telling that man off all the time."

Lestrade wasn't really sure where this was going, but he found a part of his brain caught up on the fact that Mycroft wasn't there for his sake but for his brother's. Of course that made more sense, but Lestrade was nonetheless disappointed.

"But you see," Mycroft lowered his voice a bit. Not only did he lean forward so that he could still be heard but also talked with a darker voice that to Lestrade did not sound anything like the one you used when talking to your brother's co-worker (or whatever Lestrade was to Sherlock). "You are something extraordinary. You are so passionated when you work and the way you trust my brother even though he is a nutjob..." Lestrade forced himself not to laugh. But the word did really sound weird when it came from that man's mouth. "To get to the point: you mesmerise me."

Lestrade wasn't really sure whatever he was supposed to make out of that. Instead he just smiled a little in a thankful manner and drank from the wine. His glass was already empty and apparently so was also the bottle. It all triggered something inside of him that made him nervous, even though the violin was still playing in the background.

"What," Lestrade began but wasn't sure how he was going to end the sentence, "do you mean?"

"In the beginning this was just to thank you and get to know you on a more personal level. But you are one amazing man, Gregory!" That smile again. "I might be rushing things..."

Suddenly it all happened very quickly. Mycroft got up from his seat and fell to his knee next to Lestrade. He started taking something out from his pocket and the violin suddenly cracked. Lestrade heard a third voice in the room saying "oh no" in a dark voice he recognised well. Suddenly there was a ring and some words and the violinist stood right next to them.

"Will you marry me, Gregory?"

The violinist put a hand on Mycrofts forehead and pushed the man backwards so hard that he had no way to avoid hitting the floor. The professional inside Lestrade sprung out and he stood up and was ready to act.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked the violinist just to be surprised he was staring at Sherlock Holmes. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock ignored him.

Mycroft got back on his feet but didn't seem bothered that his brother was there and was staring at him with such fierce eyes even Lestrade wasn't sure he had ever seen them like that. The taller man brushed some dust from his fine suit and gave Lestrade a gentle smile.

"I'm so very sorry for my brother. He is not very... _smooth_."

"No, it's okay," Lestrade said and sounded just as confused as he was.

"Don't listen to him, Lestrade," Sherlock said. "He's just messing around in his own sick little way. I knew right away he was up to no good when I heard him inviting you."

"So that's why you're here." Mycroft took a step back and looked at his brother in a way only an older brother can. "I wondered. But for your information this was really only my way of trying to thank Gregory Lestrade for putting up with you all the time. You yourself ruined his surprise by turning up here."

Sherlock looked between the men a couple of times before stopping at his brother. He seemed to be very deep inside his mind before it actually occurred to him.

"I shall be leaving."

The dark haired man didn't bother looking at the two others as he left the room. It was as if he hadn't even been there from the beginning, if it weren't for the false beard he had left on the floor. Lestrade looked at it and then turned to Mycroft who had a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

"I'm so sorry for my brother," he said. "He has a way of ruining things, hasn't he?"

"But what would else would you expect from Sherlock Holmes?"

Mycroft laughed and moved over to the door and put his hand on the handle. Lestrade felt something inside himself. He was actually disappointed that it seemed like this night had ended. Even though Sherlock had been a surprise turn of the evening it had all been so nice up until that moment.

"But I must say that I enjoyed your company, Gregory. I hope to see that you will join me again."

"I'm sorry to say I'm not really able to pay for such places as these."

"It will be my treat, of course. Only the best for the best, as I said."

Lestrade felt a bit flustered as they left the restaurant. He was happy he had been able to find a friend that could treat him to such places but it also made him feel pampered. Perhaps he just didn't like the idea of getting treated to dinners by another man or perhaps just that the man had such an enchanting smile. He refused to think further about it and decided to just be happy about the things that occurred.

"Would you like a ride?" Mycroft asked as he was standing next to a black car with darkened windows. The door was open and Lestrade could just almost see something inside, making him even more curious about the insides.

"Thank you, but no. I would prefer to walk." In fact he wouldn't but wasn't sure if he could ask any more of the man he barely knew. He decided a walk might perhaps be good for him. "But thank you for everything. I'll be looking forward to next time."

"Gregory." Lestrade was stopped as he had just managed to take one step away. He felt the man's hand on his shoulder and turned to his surprise to find Mycroft's face just inches from his. "I do wish for you to think about what I asked of you before. Perhaps not to that extend, but keep it in mind would you?"

Lestrade watched as Mycroft slipped his hand off from the shoulder and got into the car. He moved gracefully, almost as if he was too used of getting into cars in that kind of manner.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Oh, show me you are a detective inspector and use that magnificent brain of yours."

Normally Lestrade would have taken those words in a negative way but wasn't able to. The tone in the man's voice before the door slammed close and the car drove off convinced him it was in a good way the words had been uttered. It all just seemed like Lestrade had missed something big. It wasn't until the car disappeared around a corner that he realised that there had been only one proposal that night.

"Oh shit."


End file.
